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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27305701">My Girl Is A Heartbreak</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperF/pseuds/PepperF'>PepperF</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Diego whump [31]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, I'm gonna miss this, Part Two, Whumptober 2020, last one!!!, walmart!Batman and walmart!Catwoman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:34:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,179</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27305701</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperF/pseuds/PepperF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Brace yourself," she tells him, but he still drops like a stone when the chain goes loose, crying out in pain. She hurries back to him, scolding, "I said brace yourself, idiot!" She rolls him until she's cradling his head in her lap. </p>
<p>"Yeah, yeah. You wish you were this co—coor—coror—put together, after the day I've had."</p>
<p>"That doesn't even make sense." His hair is getting long, and she strokes it back from his sweaty face. "You look awful."</p>
<p>"Lila." He blinks up at her through the one eye that's not completely swollen shut. And then grimaces, turning his face away. "Or whatever your name is."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Diego Hargreeves/Lila Pitts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Diego whump [31]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951318</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>My Girl Is A Heartbreak</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>THE LAST ONE! Huge, huge thanks and appreciation and hugs to Bethany for beta-reading ALL of these, and for just being a lovely, supportive person, and everything that she is. :D</p>
<p>And thanks to everyone who has read and left kudos/commented, I've had a blast, and I am going to miss having something to post every day. I will be back with more Umbrella Academy content, just, uh...not on <i>quite</i> such an intense schedule!</p>
<p>Oh, this is a sequel to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26969749">Wicked Games</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Her heart stops when she sees him hanging there, limp. His shirt is gone, along with his boots, every terrible thing they'd done painted in broad strokes on his body—the brutal purple and red prints of a boot, the thorough cross-hatching where he was beaten with a stick, the delicate swirls where someone played with a knife. Blood drips in a slow <i>tap...tap...tap </i>on the floor. If it wasn't for the shallow rise and fall of his chest, she'd think he was dead.</p>
<p>She must make a noise, because he stirs, and lifts his head slowly, squinting into the shadows that surround him. She moves forward, to the edge of the light that's trained on him, reaching out to touch his cheek with the tip of a finger. Anything more, she fears, will hurt him.</p>
<p>"Lila?" he slurs. "Izzat you?"</p>
<p>"Shh. I'm here. I've got you."</p>
<p>And she whirls into action.</p>
<p>Diego's head droops again as she works frantically at the chain holding his arms up above his head. It's pulled taut, up and over a beam, and she follows it down to where it's anchored on the far side of the room. It might be painful if he was standing, but with the way his knees have buckled, it must be excruciating. </p>
<p>"Brace yourself," she tells him, but he still drops like a stone when the chain goes loose, crying out in pain. She hurries back to him, scolding, "I said brace yourself, idiot!" She rolls him until she's cradling his head in her lap. </p>
<p>"Yeah, yeah. You wish you were this co—coor—coror—put together, after the day I've had."</p>
<p>"That doesn't even make sense." His hair is getting long, and she strokes it back from his sweaty face. "You look awful."</p>
<p>"Lila." He blinks up at her through the one eye that's not completely swollen shut. And then grimaces, turning his face away. "Or whatever your name is."</p>
<p>"It's Lila, I swear." He doesn't answer. "Look, never mind all that now. I have to get you out of here." She tries to find purchase on any part of his skin that's not covered in cuts, bruises, or welts, and starts pushing and pulling him up, but he cries out again, flopping back to the floor.</p>
<p>"Shoulder," he says, through gritted teeth, and—oh yes, she can see now that it's dislocated. Well, she can fix that, at least. But he'll need a distraction...</p>
<p>She leans over Diego and brushes her nose against his, close enough that she can see his one good eye widen in surprise—and then flutter shut as she presses her lips to his. He resists for a few seconds, but then suddenly his good hand threads into her hair to hold her in place, and he's kissing her back hungrily, desperately, like he thought he'd never get another chance. She knows the feeling. But meanwhile she's maneuvring to get a better grip, angle it properly, and then—</p>
<p>He howls, <i>really </i>howls, as she pops his shoulder back into its socket. And then falls quiet, panting up at the ceiling. "What the fuuuuu..."</p>
<p>"I'm gonna get you a Batman mask, but with wolf ears," she tells him, brightly. "That can be your superhero fursona. It's perfect. Can you get up now?"</p>
<p>It's a little easier, with the adrenaline that's probably flooding his body, but she needs to get him moving before the shock and exhaustion really set in. He stumbles alongside her on numb feet, one arm around her shoulders, clumsy and stiff and injured absolutely fucking everywhere, and he stinks like, well, like someone who just spent two days in a torture chamber—but she still wants to wrap her arms around him and breathe him in for a while. He's <i>not dead</i>. He's not dead, and she's going to make sure he bloody well stays that way.</p>
<p>"I don't think your mom likes me," he says.</p>
<p>"Yeah, no shit."</p>
<p>"Is she gonna come after us?" She doesn't answer for a few steps. "Lila—"</p>
<p>"I've taken care of it," she says. It's all she can give him right now. She's not ready to talk about—everything. The kill order, her real parents, the lifetime of manipulation and lying, honing her body as a tool for her mother's ambitions, only to realize that it meant less than nothing, that <i>she </i>meant nothing... It's too much. </p>
<p>"Lila," he says, more gently. But, mercifully, he doesn't push. He has an instinct for where her boundaries lie, even after everything.</p>
<p>When she is ready, she thinks, maybe she could tell him. If anyone could understand, it'd be him. And he might even...he might not hate her at the end of it. When he knows everything she's done, the kind of person she is. Or was? She's not sure any more. There's a lot to untangle.</p>
<p>But right now, she needs to focus on getting them out of here.</p>
<p>"The people here, they're not Commission. Some of them might have trained there, but they're...different."</p>
<p>"A private army," says Diego, grimly. "I met a few of 'em. Not very friendly."</p>
<p>"No. And they won't listen to me."</p>
<p>"Even though...?"</p>
<p>"I was never involved in this side of things. She just told me she had it covered. I never imagined—well, the supervillain lair, the private army, all of this. I knew she was ambitious, but..." She shakes her head. "I should have realized. I should have got her to trust me, then I would have known what she was up to and maybe talked her out of—"</p>
<p>"Hey, hey. No." Diego pulls to a halt, and turns her face to his with gentle fingers. "You aren't responsible for what your mom did, or where she went wrong. That's on her."</p>
<p>"Is that what your brothers and sisters will say?"</p>
<p>"That's what <i>I'm</i> saying. And I'll fight them on it if I have to." He glances around. "Assuming we get out of here alive."</p>
<p>"Anyway, it doesn't matter right now." She shakes off the urge to cry, and replaces it with diamond-hard determination, the way she'd been taught. "We're nearly there."</p>
<p>Of course, around the next corner is a door guarded by two men with guns. They're too far away for her to leap out on, but there is one thing she's been dying to try out.</p>
<p>Lila pulls out a couple of knives and hands them to Diego. "Throw them."</p>
<p>"Babe, my depth perception is shot, even with my power—"</p>
<p>"Just trust me. Use your power, and throw." She holds his gaze, willing him to believe her, and finally he nods.</p>
<p>"Okay. But I'm in no shape to run, so you'd better have a backup plan."</p>
<p>"Don't worry," she says. "I've got this." And she wills herself to believe it as well, to focus, and not to think about how his body hung there, looking like he was already dead, or about what his siblings will think, or about what her mother would have said or what she'd done, or about that 'babe', or anything else. Just...focus.</p>
<p>He peeks briefly at where the men are, and then leans flat against the wall, not looking, and throws—</p>
<p>
  <i>—and she can feel the power, feel where it reaches out to the flying blades and turns them, feel where they're angled wrong—so she reaches out herself, and it's like putting a hand over his to correct his aim, tweaking their flight, and—</i>
</p>
<p>There's a clatter as both men fall to the ground, knives in their throats. Lila peeks around the corner and nods in satisfaction. </p>
<p>When she looks back at Diego, he's staring cycloptically at her. "You—you're—we're—"</p>
<p>She grins toothily. "Cat got your tongue?"</p>
<p>"You've got the same power as me!" He gestures frantically between them.</p>
<p>"Not exactly."</p>
<p>He steps into her personal space, like she couldn't take him out with a sharp poke in the ribs right now. "Don't bullshit me. I could feel it, Lila! I felt the knives change course—"</p>
<p>"Oh yes, I did that. But I don't have your power. I guess you could say I have the power to mimic your power? Not stealing, but copying." He's still slack-jawed with disbelief, so she pats his face gently. "Anything you can do, I can do better, knife boy. Come on."</p>
<p>"Better? Hey—<i>better</i>? What d'you mean, 'better'—?"</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>In the end, it doesn't matter what his siblings think, not when she's half-carrying him through the door, reeling and stumbling as the adrenaline wears off. "Please, help him!" she gasps, and is surrounded in seconds by hands willing to take her burden. </p>
<p>She presses herself against the wall, out of the way, and watches them, their focus and determination when one of their own is hurt—and although a part of her is envious, a larger part is grateful, because she knows he'll be okay now. They won't let anything happen to him.</p>
<p>As he's lifted between the big one (Luther) and the skinny one (Klaus), Diego looks back and meets her eyes. "Wait! Lila—"</p>
<p>Five sets of eyes focus on her, with varying levels of curiosity and suspicion. She returns their stare and refuses to flinch.</p>
<p>"Diego, isn't she—"</p>
<p>"She's with me," says Diego, firmly. And that, it seems, is enough for now.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>"How many bedrooms has this place got?" she asks later, when they're squeezed together in his tiny bed.</p>
<p>Diego plays with the blunt ends of her hair. "Like, forty-something," he admits. "Why?"</p>
<p>"Do any of them have bigger beds?"</p>
<p>When she props herself on her elbow, he's staring up at the ceiling with his one unbandaged eye, a blank expression on his face, like he's never even considered the question before. She rolls her eyes. </p>
<p>"I'm just saying, if you bring someone here," she says, gesturing broadly at his room, "they're going to think you have a fetish for cosplaying as a Victorian orphan in a debtor's prison."</p>
<p>"But...it's my room," he says.</p>
<p>"And it's adorable—but if you want me to pull down your knickerbockers and give you six of the best, we should probably wait until you're better."</p>
<p>"Six of the what now?"</p>
<p>"A caning, you uncultured swine."</p>
<p>"Oh." He gives a shudder. "Yeah, hard pass." He shoots her a sideways look. "You know, you can just say you'd like to stay a while, if you want. No one's gonna object."</p>
<p>"Me?" she scoffs. "I just thought you'd want to be more comfortable, in your current pathetic and vulnerable state!"</p>
<p>"Okay. If you say so."</p>
<p>She hopes he knows that she can easily wipe that smirk off his face. She can think of a dozen different ways without even getting out of bed. But then it softens, in that way he's got of—god, just kneecapping her with a look. The bastard. </p>
<p>"Hey, Lila?"</p>
<p>"Yes?" she says, uncertainly.</p>
<p>"I'd like it if you stuck around—you know, while I'm pathetic and vulnerable."</p>
<p>She can't hold his gaze, and instead settles back down into the inviting curve of his arm, smoothing out one of his bandages with restless fingers. There are worse things than being forced to snuggle with Diego, she'll admit. "And...after?"</p>
<p>His voice is a comforting rumble through his chest. "Well, I guess we can figure that out together, huh?"</p>
<p>Together. That sounds nice. "I guess I don't have any other plans." She brightens. "And this is a much better city for running around the rooftops, dressed in black leather."</p>
<p>He hums. "Please don't turn to a life of crime just for the aesthetic, okay?"</p>
<p>She gives it due consideration. "I also liked being your nemesis."</p>
<p>"Yeah, that part was pretty cool. And it's not like I want to stop you from dressing in black leather." He taps his fingers on her shoulder. "What d'you think about becoming an awesome crime fighting team?"</p>
<p>"Oh my <i>god</i>."</p>
<p>"What?"</p>
<p>She sits up."That is <i>genius</i>!" </p>
<p>"Yeah?" He sounds surprised, like he was expecting to get shot down.</p>
<p>She lets her eyes rove greedily over him, noting each bruise that will heal, each cut that will scar, and above all how his face, for all its battered state, is alight with the dawn of a slow grin. She's never allowed herself to feel this protective, this <i>possessive</i>, over anything or anyone, and it's terrifying, because he's so infinitely breakable. She could do it herself, right now, in a thousand different ways, words or actions. And when he's out there, he's not going to take care of himself—no, he's going to throw himself into trouble at every opportunity, the way he's always done. She can read the history of that in the layers of his scars. She could lose him so easily—and probably will.</p>
<p>But when he looks at her like this, she thinks he's worth the risk.</p>
<p>"Yeah," she confirms, huskily. She presses a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips, about the only square inch of whole skin she can find. She can ravish him later. "We'll be unstoppable."</p>
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